


Memories Won't Fade

by ShadyLantern



Series: Stars At Dawn [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyLantern/pseuds/ShadyLantern
Summary: While in the fade, the nightmare demon chose to give the inquisitor more memories than Lavellan was ready for. Now he must learn to face those old nightmares.
Relationships: Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Stars At Dawn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906846
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

Three days since returning from Adamant fortress. Three days, rumours and stories abounding in Skyhold about what had happened, what had been seen, each growing more and more fantastical while still failing to be as terrifying as what actually transpired. It was fortunate the general public was distracted with their tales of grandeur, or they may have noticed the inquisitor had not been seen since coming back. 

Dorian was sitting in the garden, trying to distract himself with a book, growing ever more aware that he hadn’t turned a page in several minutes. His thoughts were far away in memories. Grey Wardens. The Fade. What he had seen in the Fade, and what they had been forced to see in the Fade. 

He sighed, closing his book with a _thump_ and laying it on the bench beside him. He watched the people in the garden idly, wishing he could block out the memories. Certainly Dorian had always thought it would be fascinating to walk in the Fade, to be able to study it in the flesh. He didn’t think he would have hoped for it so much if he had considered it a possibility. And most certainly not if he had imagined such an immensely powerful demon being his host. 

None of them who had entered the Fade with the inquisitor had discussed it together. He knew Cassandra was writing down an account of the battle, of what had happened, for history’s sake. But he knew there would be some particular details left out. And he knew, especially, what one of those details would be. 

A memory forced into Cassiel’s head by the nightmare demon. A memory that washed over all of them, filling their heads with a screaming, bloody vision the elf had direly wanted locked away forever. Dorian had never seen him so shaken, so hollow eyed. None of them had said anything at the time. Hadn’t known what to say. The inquisitor had moved on, moved forward, and there was no time for delay. Then they came home, he took care of his remaining business, and he retired to his room. His entire manner made it clear visitors were not welcome. 

And that brought him to today. As far as Dorian had heard, servants brought him food outside his quarters, he sent out orders through Josephine, and otherwise remained silent and locked away. Three days. Dorian stood, tucking his unread book under his arm and wandering out of the garden. 

He wondered, not for the first time, if he should have been doing more for Cassiel. Partners were meant to support each other, were they not? Surely Cassiel would have sent for him if he wanted company, but perhaps he expected it also? Perhaps he thought Dorian was ignoring him, or uninterested. It was somewhat embarrassing to admit he had no idea what was appropriate, or expected. His kneejerk reaction was to want to reach out and help, but if the elf needed space…

Dorian found himself in the great hall, and realised he had been standing still for several seconds, looking at nothing. A few nobles and servants gave him strange looks and sneers as they passed. He sighed heavily, striding out the front doors and into the courtyard. Maybe he should ask someone for advice. But then, how many friends did he have who could tell him much more than he already knew?

His first thought was Varric, and he sighed again. If that was his best option, he was in trouble indeed. 

A hand touched his shoulder gingerly. “You’re Dorian, aren’t you?”

He turned his head in confusion, brows shooting up in shock at the elf standing before him. “Dia?” he said in disbelief. Cassiel’s older sister, who he had met briefly once before. She was tall, standing eye to eye with him, stern faced but her gaze was soft now, concerned. “What are you doing here? Is your family here with you?”

“No, it’s just me this time. I came to check up on Cassiel.” She crossed her arms, looking up to the castle, then back to the mage. “I sent a letter, first a week ago and then again two days gone. Is he all right? I assume it would be big news if he died.”

Letters? Cassiel had never mentioned any sort of upcoming visit. Perhaps they hadn’t made it through to him. Or perhaps he was ignoring those as well. Dorian shook his head, looking around at the people streaming past them on both sides. 

“He is all right. But perhaps it’d be better if we spoke somewhere more private.” He took her arm gently, guiding her toward the great hall. 

A much heavier hand grabbed his shoulder this time, and a venomous voice hissed, “Don’t manhandle her, shemlen.”

Dorian looked up to see yet another elf, a tall fellow, pale and light haired. His face was twisted to look menacing, but he could tell it was entirely faked. Dorian smiled, a gentle curve of his lips. 

“My apologies,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, loosing his hold on Dia’s arm. She scowled at the new elf, and the man quailed a bit. 

“Don’t, Platel. I told you. Don’t cause problems, don’t start fights. Is that clear?”

The elf, Platel, nodded mutely. Dorian gestured ahead, looking to Dia, and led the two back inside of Skyhold. He turned away from the door to the inquisitor’s quarters regretfully. That he could have simply brought them straight to Cassiel…

He took them through a few hallways until they reached his assigned room. A shoddy - Cassiel called it ‘respectable’ - closet someone had the kindness and grace to throw a cheap bed into so he didn’t have to sleep in the dirt outside. It was lightly furnished with necessities, and seemed even more cramped now that he had become used to sharing the inquisitor’s room. Dia sat herself in a chair, leaning a metal spear she’d had strapped to her back against the wall. Dorian sat himself on his bed, and Platel remained standing by the door. Still tried to look dangerous, and still failed. 

“I’ve heard rumours,” Dia spoke up, looking to Dorian. “Adamant fortress. Grey Warden base. You stormed it, killed wardens, killed a giant demon? Something about the Fade too.” Her tone was disbelieving, but her eyes were sharp. Dorian clasped his hands together, thinking. 

“It’s a long story. The grey wardens we killed were possessed by demons. As for the Fade… Well, we fell into it, I suppose.”

“Fell into it?”

Dorian smirked. “Oh yes. Fell inside, fully and physically. It was rather awful, to tell the truth.”

“Isn’t that impossible?” Platel asked, voice softening for a moment. Dorian shrugged. 

“Well, no, otherwise we wouldn’t have the Blight. Nobody really knows how to do it, and that’s to the better. No one should enter the Fade, not like that. We’re lucky we survived.”

“Lucky you didn’t pull another Blight out of your ass too,” Dia said dryly. “Cassiel walked in the Fade too, then? He wasn’t injured?”

“No more than usual.” He hesitated, glancing to Platel. He wanted to tell Dia the truth. And it had occurred to him that she could have advice about how to deal with Cassiel locking himself away from the world. But what he had seen.... It was private. It wasn’t for everyone to hear, and certainly not strange angry elves trying to intimidate him.

“I think we should talk privately, Dia,” Dorian said after a moment. Platel’s brow shot up. 

“What do you think I’m scared to hear, shem?” he said angrily. Dia studied the mage closely, eyes narrowed in thought. Platel crossed his arms. “If you have something to say about Cassiel, then you can say it to me.”

“Step out for a while, Platel,” Dia said softly, gesturing vaguely to the door. He looked at her incredulously. “If it’s for you to hear, I’ll tell you later.”

“Dia! This is exactly why I came!” His tone was plaintive now, almost pleading. Dorian watched him with interest, a thought sparking in his brain. “If something’s wrong, I can - ”

“Not now. Go back to our room at the inn.” Dia fixed her hard stare on the elf. He silenced himself, looked at her a moment longer, then glared at Dorian before storming out. 

Dorian waited for the footsteps to fade before speaking up. “Interesting fellow,” he said in amusement. “Bodyguard?”

“Please. I don’t need a bodyguard.” She took a deep breath, leaning back in the chair. “I’m sorry for his… mood. It’s rather, well, complicated. But his concern for Cassiel is genuine. His hatred of tevinter is also genuine.”

Dorian grinned. Some things never changed. He drummed his fingers on his leg for a moment, then turned to meet Dia’s gaze. “Something happened in the fade,” he started. Dia’s eyes were like icicles, piercing into him. He doubted he could lie without her realising. “There was a powerful demon there, a nightmare demon that fed on and absorbed fearful memories. He forced one back into your brother.”

Dia tensed, ears perked high. “Demons can do that?” she whispered. Dorian made a face. 

“If they’re powerful enough, dedicated enough... I’ve never met or heard of one like this before, if that helps at all.”

From her face, it did not. She leaned her ears back. “Do you know what he saw?” she asked, voice careful. 

“I do. I saw it as well.” He thought a moment. A flash of red, screams. It was fading for him, more like a dream than a memory. He doubted Cassiel had such luck. “Does the name ‘Breele’ mean anything to you?”

Dia looked at him sharply, then squeezed her eyes shut. “Shit. No, not Breele…” 

She stood, pacing the small length of the room restlessly, wringing her hands together. Dorian waited, watching her. She seemed distressed, unsure. Finally, after a full minute, she halted, leaning a hand on the table.

“It was the bandits, wasn’t it?” It wasn’t a question, but Dorian nodded. She let out a long breath. “Good thing I sent Platel away.”

“Who was he? Breele, I mean.”

Dia hesitated, looking to him. Her brow furrowed as she considered. “It’s not for me to tell, but you…” Another sigh, and she sat back down in her chair. “Breele was my brother’s husband, a long time ago. He and Cassiel were both attacked by bandits. Breele did not survive.”

Another flash of red. A smiling, twisted face inches from his own. Dorian shook his head, shivering slightly. “That’s where the scars on his face came from,” he added softly. He looked to Dia. “He’s been in his room since we came back from Adamant. He doesn’t want to see anybody.”

Dia’s eyes burned as he spoke. She stood, stepping to him and clutching his shoulder tightly. “Then listen to me,” she said, voice heated. “When Breele died, Cassiel isolated himself for seven years. He closed off from everyone and _did not come back_. We were shocked to see him smiling when we last visited.”

Dorian stared at her, then gripped her hand on his shoulder. “What do I do, if he doesn’t want to see me?” he asked. 

She grinned bitterly. “Kick down his damn door if you must, but don’t let him isolate. You’re his partner, Dorian. You might be the only one here who can save that fool elf from himself.”

*****


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t much want to be out of his room these days, but Cassiel desperately needed fresh air after several days of isolation. Fortunately, one of his balconies was helpfully placed over the fortress walls, and climbing old stone bricks wasn’t much harder than climbing a tree. 

This late, the only people on the walls were guards, and this particular section was lightly watched, since it hung over a sheer cliff. Cassiel wandered along idly, feeling the chill of the mountains biting into him and welcoming it. His head burned on the inside with sick terrifying memories. 

_Flash of red searing pain. Someone is screaming, and it takes a moment to realise it’s my voice. I clutch my face, over my eye, seeing only crimson._

_“Cassiel!!”_

_Breele jumps out from the trees. His bow isn’t even nocked. He lets out a sick gasp as three arrows sink into his chest in quick succession. I’m screaming, again, red dying his green coat, collapsing like a broken doll._

Cassiel shook his head desperately. Seven years. Nearly eight. He leaned his weight on the wall, arms slung over it. Losing those memories had been a blessing. Gaining them back… 

And if they were horrifying in his reality, his dreams were worse. The events played over and over in his sleep, waking him constantly, soaked with sweat and choking. The bandits. The cuts to his face. Breele. And…

_His weight slams me down to the ground, one hand pressing my face, my bloody eye, into the dirt. His hand’s grip is so tight I can’t open my mouth, can’t shout or scream. My good eye can see his cruel, twisted smile, the bandits laughing behind him._

_“Won’t be so pretty when we’re done with you, knife ear,” he says with a sick humour, the dagger cutting into my upper lip. I let out a muffled scream of pain as he sliced through skin, flesh and muscle, cutting into my gums and between my teeth, dragging it down to my chin. Blood leaking down my throat. They’re laughing._

_He lets go of my head, his knife shredding through my jacket and shirt, nicking and cutting flesh. I let out a choked cry, consciousness flickering from shock and pain. I can see Breele’s limp form. Dead. Dead. Dead._

Someone touched his shoulder. He spun, hand whipping up and grasping their wrist in a death grip. It took Cassiel a second to see, to process, who was standing there, who he was holding. His eyes widened. 

“Platel?” Impossible. Impossible, how could he be here? Cassiel released him, stepping back jerkily. The elf shook his arm gingerly, but still held out his hand for him. Cassiel just stared at him in shock, not even looking at the proffered hand.

“It’s me, Cassie, I saw you sneak out of your window.” He grinned with a gentle humour, but looked unnerved at his reaction. “Didn’t you get Dia’s letter? We came to visit, to check on you.”

Cassiel blinked, trying to process. Dia. Platel. Letter… He pressed a hand to his head. He’d been ignoring his letters since he came back from Adamant, leaving them in a growing pile on his desk. He took in a few slow breaths, trying to calm himself, before raising his eyes to Platel. His expression hardened. 

“Is my family here?” Cassiel snapped shortly. Platel looked at him in surprise, but shook his head. “Good. I can’t see anyone right now. Tell Dia I’m fine and to go home.” He glanced up at the wall, wondering if he could climb back up to his balcony. He had climbed down after all.

“Wait… what? Cassiel, we came all this way…” Platel gestured helplessly. “I came all this way to see you!”

“Why?” Cassiel tried not to look at him, keeping his eyes focused on his balcony. 

“Why? Why?? You don’t think I still care about you after all this time, Cassie? You can’t spare even a second of your time to speak to me?” Platel’s voice grew colder. “Or is it just the tevinter who gets your time now.” Cassiel looked at him quickly, more surprised at his tone than the words. Platel sneered. “Yes, I’ve heard all about him.”

Cassiel looked away again. “Why does it matter?” he said softly. “I thought you’d moved on from me. You have a husband, a daughter.”

“You can’t even look at me.” Platel huffed, slinging his arms over the wall. “You couldn’t even tell me why. Never said a thing. Breele died, and you dumped my ring back on me and said ‘Sorry, it’s over’ and in seven years you haven’t spoken to me, looked at me, nothing.”

“You’ve every right to be angry with me,” Cassiel said, eyes still turned away. “Nobody would contest that. I certainly don’t.”

Platel was silent for a long time, just staring out over the darkened garden below the wall. Cassiel almost began to think that was it. But finally he spoke, words low and cold. “I always cared about you, Cassiel. I always loved you. And for a long time I believed you loved me the same way. But I know if Breele had lived and I died, you would never have left him.”

Cassiel looked at him in shock, pain spiking in his chest at the words. “What?”

“Can you deny it?” Platel said with a bitter grin. Cassiel felt his heart racing. 

“Of course I can. I loved you. How can you…” His chest felt tight. He clutched at his shirt tightly, trying to breathe normally. “I-I cared about you.”

“Sure, just not as much as you did Breele.” Platel straightened, eyes glaring forward. Cassiel felt his vision twinge. Memories were flashing in his head. “You two invited me in, but I was always the third wheel. Least favourite. I lost Breele too, you know. But I had to handle the sadness alone.”

Cassiel grit his teeth, head swimming. The words were cutting into him like fire. He clutched to the stone wall, and Platel finally seemed to notice his discomfort. “I-It wasn’t that I loved you less,” he said in a shaking voice. Flash of steel. Vision clouded in crimson. Three arrows, red dying green. “It… different. Me… and B-Breele…” Laughter in his ears. Knife rending fabric. He took in a ragged breath. 

“Are… Are you all right?” Platel asked, for a moment sounding like his old self. Gentle, concerned. Protective. Cassiel bared his teeth, shaking his head. 

“I can’t do this right now.” His voice sounded alien, hysterical. “I can’t do this.”

“Cassiel…” Platel put a soft hand on his shoulder. He slapped it away angrily. 

“Leave!” he barked. Platel jerked back. Cassiel forced himself to his feet, looking up to his room. He could climb that. He had to. He took in a deep, painful breath, wanting to say more, but no words came to him. He stalked away, trying to even his breathing, trying to drive out the memories. 

_Flash of steel. Screams. My voice. My name. Red dying green. “Won’t be so pretty when we’re done with you, knife ear.”_


	3. Chapter 3

He knew what he had to do, but Dorian still hesitated. 

He looked out from the hall to the door that led to the inquisitor’s quarters. All he needed to do was go, and knock. Well, he doubted Cassiel would answer that, so he would likely need to let himself in. And he wanted to. He wanted to be there for him, to help. What he feared was Cassiel’s reaction. What if it was the wrong move? Would he leave him? 

Dorian clasped his hands together, taking a deep breath. His time with Cassiel had been exquisite. More than he could have ever hoped for. The possibility of losing that… 

_“You might be the only one here who can save that fool elf from himself.”_

Dia’s words. When Dorian had first met Cassiel, he was so assured, confident. Cheerful. Sociable. What Dia had described to him was almost beyond imagining, from what he had seen of the elf. But then, here he was, staring down Cassiel’s door after three days of silence. Not so unbelievable after all, it seemed. 

He finally pushed himself forward, striding toward the inquisitor’s door. Dia had gone off to find Platel. He wasn’t sure what she would tell him. He had a feeling the elf was an old partner of Cassiel’s. Mainly the pointed anger Dorian was receiving. Jealousy. Dia had said nothing further about him, and he just hoped Platel wouldn’t be a problem. 

He reached Cassiel’s door and knocked before he could lose his nerve. Thirty seconds of silence followed. He took a deep breath. Well, hopefully he wouldn’t need to physically break the door down. He tested the door knob, and it opened easily. He let himself in. 

There was a long passage and then stairwell that led to his quarters proper, and he listened sharply as he made his way along. He noticed that he was subconsciously trying to mask his steps, and tried to just walk normally, but he was nervous. Unsure what awaited him. 

He paused at the stairs, looking up into the darkness. Was he asleep? He had been so focused on seeing the inquisitor, he hadn’t even considered that. Dorian took a breath, considering his options, when he heard shuffling above him. He looked back up, listening. Footsteps, and ragged breathing, intermixed with what sounded like cursing. Then a slam that sent Dorian racing up into Cassiel’s room. 

“Who’s there?” Cassiel’s barking voice cut through the darkness, and a book whizzed past Dorian’s head. He froze, uncertain. He could barely see, but the inquisitor’s form was silhouetted in the balcony’s open doors. 

“It’s me, amatus,” he said, remaining still. Silence, filled only with ragged breathing, until - 

“Dorian…” The elf slumped heavily on his desk, collapsing to his knees. Dorian hurried to his side, kneeling down and holding his arm. “Gods, Dorian, I don’t want you to see me this way.”

This close, he could see the inquisitor’s face more clearly, lined and drawn with exhaustion, eyes heavy. He smelt like he hadn’t washed in a day or two, though it was faintly covered with the scent of burnt elfroot and alcohol. He was in a very bad way. Dorian gripped his shoulder tightly. 

“Are you all right? Can you stand?”

Cassiel chuckled bitterly, though there was no life to his voice. “I’m f-fine. Climbed a wall while… in a state. Sorry I threw a book at you.”

Well, he hadn’t been kicked out yet. Dorian smiled tightly, helping the inquisitor to his feet. “You can apologise to the book in the morning.” He fussed with the elf’s jacket, trying to straighten his clothing. “Have you been eating? Sleeping?” he asked distractedly. Trying to find a way to bring up the real topic needing to be discussed. Cassiel nodded vaguely. 

“As much as I can,” he said softly, eyes drifting away. Dorian stroked his cheek, and the elf leaned into it slightly before pulling away. “I need to be alone, Dorian,” he said, turning to look out onto the balcony. Dorian took a deep breath. 

“You have been alone. Don’t you think it’s time to talk?”

Cassiel shook his head fiercely. “No. There’s nothing to talk about. I…” He scratched his ear roughly, irritably. “I don’t want to discuss this,” he said sternly. Dorian took a step forward, touching his arm. Cassiel jerked slightly, as though to pull away, but stopped. 

“Listen to me,” Dorian whispered gently in his ear. “If you really, truly want me to leave you alone, I will go this very moment. But if there’s even an inkling inside of you that knows you need someone here, let me stay.”

Cassiel squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body tensing. Dorian could practically feel him fighting inside himself, struggling with his decision. The mage held his arms gently, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. _“Please let me stay. You’ve done so much for me. Let me help you.”_

“I-I…” Cassiel grit his teeth. “I don’t want to be alone,” he forced out. Dorian turned the elf to face him, and gathered him tightly in his arms. Cassiel pressed into him, shaking, breath ragged. Dorian closed his eyes, just holding him. Waiting. 

After several minutes he felt the elf pulling away, and he let him go. Cassiel wiped his eyes, keeping his gaze downward, and turned toward the balcony again. Dorian stayed with him, putting a hand to his back. 

“Amatus?”

“You saw,” Cassiel said, voice still ragged. “You saw it. You know what happened.”

“Tell me,” he said quietly. “You’ve never talked about it, have you?”

Cassiel’s face darkened. His eyes burned with some of his old fire. “No… I haven’t. There’s nothing to…” He trailed off, baring his teeth in a silent snarl for a moment. “Breele, he was my husband,” he started, pushing the sentence out with force. As though it hurt to say. “Seven years ago, we were scouting ahead of our clan while we moved north. We came across bandits.” 

He crossed his arms, glaring out at the night sky. “I thought… I thought they’d run when they saw us,” he said, voice quiet. “Shemlen often do. They didn’t. I stepped out, to chase them off, and one cut my face open. Breele jumped out to save me and…” Dorian squeezed his shoulder. Cassiel’s eyes were shut, breathing hard. Reliving it. It took him several seconds to continue. “There were other scouts, nearby, but not… It took them awhile to find us. Me. They…” He shook his head fiercely. “The scouts killed them,” he forced out. “And took us back. Breele was already dead. And I… It doesn’t matter.” 

Cassiel moved away, sitting heavily on the bed. Dorian watched him, stepping closer as he continued. “Nobody ever blamed me,” he said, voice hollow. “But it was my fault. I stepped out. I was careless. He died for that. I could have died for that. I should…” He trailed off as Dorian sat next to him, taking his face gently in hand. 

“A mistake doesn’t equate to blame,” he said softly. He ran his thumb over the scarring on the elf’s lips. Always been so sensitive under his own. Never had he realised the origin could be so dark, so grim. 

Cassiel sighed heavily, pulling away. “You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

Cassiel stood up, gripping his arms tightly. He was shaking slightly as he paced. His expression was pinched and painful. 

“Cassiel, tell me.”

“I can’t blame them because they’re human,” he said heatedly. “Humans kill my people. Humans enslave my people. Humans are violent, and callous, and cruel. It’s in their nature to hate and kill. I should have treated every shem I came across as a dangerous wild beast, but I didn’t, and because I didn’t, my husband is dead.” He laughed bitterly, angrily. “I may as well have stepped out into a ravenous wolf pack. Except maybe then I wouldn’t have been tortured.”

Tears began to stream down his face as he spoke. Dorian moved to his side, taking his arms in his hands. Cassiel started to pull away weakly, but he held him in place this time. 

“No more of that. Keep talking. I want to hear everything.” He kept his voice gentle, sincere. Cassiel growled in broken aggravation. 

“... I thought if I considered humans like that, it would make accepting his death easier.” Cassiel shook his head. “It never did. It never did.” Dorian leaned his forehead against his, running his hands along his arms. “Nobody blames me but me. I was there. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to accept this?” His voice quivered. “My husband is dead. He shouldn’t be dead. How am I supposed to accept that?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian said, kissing his head. “But you don’t have to be alone.”

“Fuck…” Cassiel leaned into him, clutching his shirt tightly. “Fuck, Dorian, I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. Here…” He guided the inquisitor back toward the bed. “Let’s lay down. You must be exhausted.” He stretched out on the mattress, watching Cassiel crawl next to him and flop his body down heavily. 

“Dorian... Vhenan.” His tired eyes met the mage’s. “Listen… I haven’t been sleeping. I have nightmares. Constant nightmares. If you sleep here with me, you’re going to be woken up over and over.”

Dorian smiled, rubbing his cheek. “Well, I suppose we will have a matching set of baggy eyes,” he joked, seeing a small twitch of his beloved’s lip. After a moment the elf sat up, just enough to pull his jacket and shirt off, tossing them across the room haphazardly. Dorian followed suit, though he folded his neatly to put on the dresser next to them. 

Cassiel nestled next to him, pulling a rumpled blanket over the two of them. Dorian held him close tightly, and his nose wrinkled slightly. “Tomorrow, we’re having a bath,” he said with an affectionate humour. Cassiel chuckled, and this time there was a little more life to it. 

“I can’t wait for you to scrub my skin off.”


	4. Chapter 4

The inquisitor was not wrong about his nightmares. Twice he woke Dorian in the middle of the night, first with a shout as he jolted awake, and second by trembling so hard the bed shook. Each time Dorian sat up with him, gently soothing him back to sleep. 

Morning found Dorian awakening first, his eyes opening as the sun peeked over the horizon. He groaned quietly, running a hand over his face. He was still tired. He looked to Cassiel, the elf curled away from him in a tight ball, asleep. Dorian sat up slowly, studying him. No outward signs of distress, although he had never seen the inquisitor sleep like that before. 

He got out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb his bed partner. He needed as much rest as he could get. With a last look at Cassiel, he wandered across the room into their bathroom. He paused briefly to check his hair and makeup in the mirror before turning to the massive tub the inquisition had apparently decided a single scrawny elf needed. He smirked as he set the water running. Cassiel barely used the damn thing anyway. Not that he didn’t wash, but, as he had told Dorian, he hated ‘making such a big fuss about it’. Dorian shook his head. Well, he supposed it was natural. It wasn’t like dalish clans had bath tubs after all. 

He let his thoughts drift idly as he filled the tub. Immediately his mind went to Cassiel’s story the previous night. Dorian had never considered that the elf had been married. He didn’t remember him mentioning Breele, or Platel. In fact, he had never mentioned any romantic partners at all. 

He heard shuffling in the other room, breaking him from his thoughts. He stood, turning off the faucets and making his way back into the inquisitor’s quarters. Dorian smiled at Cassiel as the elf sat up, trying to untangle himself from his blankets. 

“Good morning, amatus,” he said, seating himself on the edge of the bed. Cassiel squinted at him drowsily. Now that Dorian saw him in the light, the lines on his face were even more drawn and visible. To be perfectly frank, he looked like shit. He leaned over, stroking the elf’s cheek. “How was your rest?”

“I’m not sure I’d call it rest.” He finally kicked off the blanket, running his hands over his head. He leaned back on his elbows, letting out a long breath. Dorian ran a gentle hand over his chest, tickling his belly, smirking at the snort Cassiel made. 

“Well, get up. I said you’re getting a bath today and you are.”

Cassiel made a long groan, Dorian laughing at his annoyed expression. It was so much like his old self he couldn’t help it. “Fine, I’ll lay here while you get that ready,” he said, flopping back down. Dorian chuckled, wrapping his arms around the elf and lifting him off the bed. 

“No need, it’s already drawn and ready.” He carried him toward the bathroom, grinning at Cassiel fidgeting in his arms. He would never have accepted Dorian hauling him around like this in public. 

“I swear you think I’m some sort of fairy tale princess, carrying me around like this,” he grumbled. Dorian chuckled. 

“Well, you definitely act like one sometimes.” He placed him down on his feet inside the bathroom, running a hand down his neck. He set to unlacing his pants, Cassiel following suit more slowly. The elf yawned widely, leaning on him. 

“I’m exhausted, vhenan,” he said softly. Dorian patted him on the shoulder. 

“I know, darling. Come, let’s get you clean.”

This was basically the only time Cassiel used the bath: when Dorian was sharing his room. That said, those other times had been rather more… enjoyable, in their own way. Cassiel was still listless and tired, letting himself be guided into the water and staring off unfocused as Dorian settled behind him. 

He rubbed the elf’s back gently, feeling the knots of tension in his muscles. He kissed him softly. “Amatus?”

“Hm?”

“Tell me about Breele.” He pressed his thumbs into his back, determined to massage those knots out. Cassiel sucked in a breath, resettling himself.

“Tell you about…” Cassiel sighed, ears tilting downward. “Dorian, you don’t need to… I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my old partners.”

“I asked, didn’t I?” He kissed the back of his head, still rubbing his back and shoulders. “You must have some amusing tales. How long were the two of you together?”

“Gods… Uh…” Cassiel leaned back into his touch, thinking. “I-I guess we coupled when I was twenty. That was a long time ago.” He took a deep breath, a soft croon escaping his throat from Dorian’s attentions. The mage softly worked into the scarring on his back, more gentle on his old injury. “We married five years later. So… t-ten years. Ten years together.”

Ten years. Dorian ran his hands down his shoulders, touching his lips to his neck. He reached for a bar of soap and a cloth, lathering the two together. “So, tell me something about him,” he continued, hoping to encourage… something. 

Cassiel grit his teeth as the mage scrubbed his back. “Well, you’re kind of reminding me of him right now,” he said with a note of amusement. “I don’t think Breele was satisfied until I was missing a layer of skin.” Dorian chuckled, but didn’t let up his scrubbing. He had definitely met less hygenic southerners, but that didn’t mean he needed a partner covered in dead skin and old dirt. “Did I tell you… I guess I didn’t. Breele’s the reason my hair is this short.”

Dorian raised a brow, looking at the short fuzz on the elf’s head. He had never seen Cassiel grow it more than a couple inches. “Oh really?”

“I used to have long hair. Down past my shoulders.” He crooned quietly as Dorian washed the soap off his skin. One of the many bonuses of bathing the inquisitor was the adorable noises he tended to make. “Well, I wasn’t very good at taking care of it. It’s a lot of work to keep long hair nice and tidy.” He snickered, grinning over his shoulder at the mage. “I came back from a week long hunting trip, and Breele was combing burrs and mats out of my hair and he told me, Cassie if you come back with your hair like this again I’m cutting it off.”

“And he did?” Dorian pulled the elf back into his lap, running his hands over his chest. Cassiel smirked, leaning into him. 

“Well, the next time I came back with lice.” Dorian wrinkled his nostrils in disgust. Cassiel laughed. “So he took me to the lake, scrubbed me silly, and we cut my hair off. I mean, those lice were so damn itchy I was more than happy to be rid of it by then. He said I could regrow it and try to take better care of it, but I found I preferred the short hair. So, here we are.”

“What a wonderfully disgusting story, thank you.” Lice. He shuddered. Cassiel reached out to grab a cloth and soap, beginning to wash himself off more thoroughly. 

“You’re welcome. They loved that story back in my clan. I’m surprised my family didn’t bring it up when they visited.” He sighed, and his expression grew sad again. “Breele had the most beautiful braids,” he said softly. “He was much better at keeping his hair clean and pretty. Dedicated.” 

His expression grew more thoughtful, as though considering something. Dorian leaned back, watching him. After a few moments, he turned around to face him. “Dorian… I should tell you,” he said hesitantly. “Breele wasn’t my only partner at the time. We were polygamous… A lot of our clan is. I, well, me and Breele had another partner at the time. His name was Platel.”

Dorian nodded. So, he was correct on that count. “I met him briefly, yesterday,” he said softly. Cassiel stared at him hard, then looked away. 

“I’m s - ”

Dorian cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said gently. “No more apologies. What were you going to say?”

Cassiel swallowed, then nodded. “I’d known… known Platel more casually a few years before Breele… passed.” He took in a deep breath, then pushed on. “It got more serious, and the three of us seemed to fit together very well. So we were going to marry Platel as well. He’d join into our union.” Cassiel kept his gaze focused on the wall. Dorian waited, listening. “When Breele d-died, I left him.”

Dorian cocked his head, waiting, but when Cassiel didn’t continue he spoke up. “Why?”

Cassiel closed his eyes. “It’s… hard to explain.” 

Dorian sat forward, taking the elf’s face in his hands. “I’m listening,” he said gently. Cassiel clutched at his hand tightly, nodding. He pulled back, taking in a breath. 

“I… I didn’t want to be with him, when Breele died. I didn’t want to be with anyone. Breele and I…” He ran his hands over his head, letting out a breath. Struggling. “I had a life with Breele,” he whispered after a few moments. “A life, a future… A family. When he died, that was all gone. And if I couldn’t have that, I didn’t want whatever pale echo was left of it.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I know it’s a terrible reason.”

Dorian took his hand in both of his. Wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t blame him, but he wasn’t sure how to convey that without sounding pandering. Cassiel bit his lip, and the conflict was on his face again. “Amatus?” he said softly. 

“I never told anyone this,” he said quietly. “We were trying to… Breele wanted to carry a child. He had…” He shook his head head fiercely. “Breele didn’t like sex,” he pushed out. “But he wanted to carry our baby. So we were… working on it. We weren’t going to tell anyone, not even Platel, until we knew it could happen. And then…” He put his hand over his face. 

A family. They had been trying to have a family. More pieces fell into place, more understanding of how this had crushed the poor elf so much. He hadn’t just lost a husband. He’d lost a family he had envisioned, and almost had. Lost a chance to be a father. Dorian looked at the inquisitor, and for a moment he saw the age on him. Despite his youthful elvish looks, he was almost forty years old.

“I saw Platel as well, yesterday,” Cassiel said, looking away. “I suppose he wanted closure, some kind of answer. I had nothing I could give him. He has every reason to hate me. I wish he could just accept that and move on.” The elf finally turned his gaze on Dorian, expression painful. “And you? What do you think of me now?”

Dorian’s brow creased. “What do I think of you? You think I could feel less about you?”

“I hid a lot from you,” he said softly. Dorian shook his head, pulling the elf into his lap before he could continue. 

“I will never blame you for mistakes you made in your past,” he said, holding the inquisitor tightly. Cassiel leaned into him, shivering slightly. 

“Can we get out of the water now?” he asked, voice shaking. Dorian nodded, and the two stood, stepping out together. Cassiel mutely dried himself as Dorian drained the tub, expression distant. Dorian watched him as he towelled off. Well, he wasn’t sure if he had managed to help at all, but at least he had gotten the elf out of bed and washed. 

“Amatus?” he said finally. Cassiel looked to him wearily. “I love you.”

“... I love you too, vhenan.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dia saw Cassiel walking through the courtyard toward the battlements where she stood. She waited, watching, fascinated by the people around him. Soldiers saluted as they passed, nobles gave him a respectful berth, bowing and curtsying. Common people said prayers and bowed deeply. He nodded and greeted each as he passed, a gentle smile on his face, but did not stop. He was making his way to her on the wall. 

Shortly before sunset, a messenger had come to her, with a letter from Cassiel asking her to meet him here when the sun went down. At first she had been annoyed, then amused, realising how busy her brother must be with this inquisition, when he needed to send runners just to find her. She turned away to look out over the valley far below, dark and nearly invisible as the sky lost its last remnants of light. He had become someone new. Someone entirely different from the man who had left their clan a year ago. 

“Dia…” His voice was soft as he spoke, and she turned to him. His face was drawn and gaunt from lack of sleep, but he smiled a bit, a genuine smile as he walked beside her. “Sorry for my… absence yesterday,” he continued, leaning on the stone wall. “I’ve been unwell.”

“Dorian told me what happened in the fade,” Dia said, watching his expression carefully. A small twinge, but not anger. “He also told me you locked yourself away for several days afterward.”

“Yes,” Cassiel said softly. 

“Why, Cassie?”

Her younger brother closed his eyes, letting his head drop. Dia put a hand on his shoulder soothingly. “I suppose I was trying for the easiest route of escape at the time,” he said, lifting his head again. “And hiding from my comrades who had to see the same memory I did,” he added after a moment. “Their faces of pity, after what we saw in the fade, I couldn’t take it.”

The two stood silently together for awhile after that, staring out into the darkness. Dia had so much she wanted to ask. So much she wanted to say. But Cassiel spoke up first. 

“Why did you bring Platel here?”

Dia took a deep breath. “He wanted to come. I tried to let you know ahead of time, but it seems my letters didn’t get through.” Cassiel grunted, nodding. “When last I came here, you had become so strong, so confident. And Platel…” She clenched her jaw. “I thought, if he got some sort of closure, he’d let you go.”

Cassiel shook his head slowly. “I saw him.”

“I know. He told me.”

“I’m not sure what he wanted from me. He seemed to hate me, but was still… hurt. And jealous, apparently.” Cassiel made a twisted smile. “I don’t understand. I thought he had moved on. He has a family.”

Dia clicked her tongue softly. “That hasn’t been going well,” she said after a moment. Cassiel looked to her, brow raised. “The past year, Platel has been… distant. And it’s been centered on you, Cassie. The clan talks about you all the time. Praises you. They’re so proud of what you’ve become.” Cassiel looked away hastily, embarrassed. Dia smiled for a moment before continuing. “Platel… I don’t know. Maybe it made him think the ‘old’ you was back. Maybe he got hopeful. He’s been ignoring his family more, spending a lot of time away from them. When he asked me to come to Skyhold, I agreed because…”

“You thought he could move past me.” Cassiel nodded, straightening. Dia put a hand on his arm. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to feel used, and I definitely didn’t intend to shock you like this.”

Cassiel grinned to her, waving a hand. “I understand. Unfortunately, I’m not sure I gave him much closure.” He looked away, crossing his arms. Dia waited, watching. “I remember it, Dia,” he said finally, voice quiet. “I remember everything from the bandit attack. It had finally faded away.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what to do. It still hurts as much as it ever did.”

“Cassie… What happened? You’ve never told me. You’ve never told anyone, except to take the blame.” He looked away, jaw tight. She let out a slow breath, then nodded. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked - ”

“I thought they would run when they saw us,” Cassiel said in a near whisper. Dia looked to him quickly. “The bandits. We saw them first, and Breele said we should get the other scouts to take them out, or chase them off. There were six of them. But I was so sure they would run. I was… so confident in myself.” He took a deep breath, gripping his arms tightly. “They attacked me the moment I stepped out, and killed Breele when he jumped out to save me. They… tortured me.” He shuddered. “The scouts heard me screaming but it took them a long time to reach us. The entire time I could see his body there, limp. Dead. I deserved everything those bandits did to me. Everything.”

Dia gripped his shoulder tightly. “No, Cassie.”

“Didn’t you just hear me? It was my fault it happened!” His voice was exasperated, desperate. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell us? You thought we’d blame you?”

“No…” He slumped over on the wall, shoulders sagging. “No, I didn’t tell anyone because there was nothing to tell. It was my fault. I didn’t want to be forgiven.”

Dia hugged him tightly from behind, leaning her head on his. “You’re such an idiot,” she said softly. “Didn’t you think there was a possibility we would have forgiven you because it was a mistake?”

“It was a mistake that cost - ”

“His life, yes. Just like I made a mistake that nearly cost yours.” She pulled away, pressing a hand to his back. She knew where the scarring lay underneath. “It nearly cost us Ilya and Tinx. You never blamed me even once.”

“You couldn’t have known there was a sick bear in the area,” he said wearily. Dia shook her head. 

“You can’t take the blame for what free-willed people do. You made a mistake, but they made a choice, and their choice was to kill. You couldn’t control that.”

He bit his lip. “It isn’t fair.”

“Dalish life is neither fair, nor unfair,” Dia said gently, reciting the words of their keeper. “It’s the way of nature. It simply is.”

Cassiel looked out across the wall, eyes distant. “I had to stare at his body for so long,” he whispered. “And the bandits did what they wanted. I could have avoided it.”

“Cassie…”

“I won’t isolate myself again. I can’t afford to. I have an inquisition to run.” He took a deep breath, straightening. “Dorian… He came into my room last night, just to check on me, after I ignored him and drove him away. I told him everything. Everything. And he forgave me for it.” His brow creased, nose wrinkling. “I don’t think I can forgive myself for his death,” he whispered. “But I won’t cut myself away again. It’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to my family.” He shook his head fiercely. “I’m sorry for seven wasted years, Dia.”

She hugged him tightly, and he leaned into her, breathing broken and ragged. Not perfect, not over… but better, this time. This time, perhaps, he had a chance to heal for good.


	6. Chapter 6

Cassiel woke with a choked gasp, jerking sharply, fingers clenching tightly around each other. He bolted upright, chest heaving, sweat soaking his skin. Wide frantic eyes scanned the darkness quickly, barely recognising his room in Skyhold. Flashes of red still echoed in his mind, the feeling of blades digging into flesh and fabric…

A hand touched his gently, and he jolted away, almost falling out of bed. His startled gaze fell on Dorian, the mage watching him carefully, eyes concerned. Cassiel ran a hand over his head, taking in a deep shuddering breath. Nearly a week since they returned from Adamant fortress, and still his dreams haunted him. 

He flopped back heavily on the bed, eyes sliding shut as he tried to relax. He felt Dorian’s weight shift, the man wrapping his arms around him tightly and pulling him close. Cassiel tensed a moment before giving in, curling his body into his partner’s hold. _“You don’t need to be alone.”_

“Do you remember where you are, amatus?” Dorian’s soft voice asked, hands rubbing his back. Cassiel nodded jerkily. He tutted. “You’re shaking like a leaf, my poor darling. And your skin is freezing.”

_“Won’t be so pretty when we’re done with you, knife ear.”_

Cassiel jerked back upright, taking in a sharp breath. It was so clear in his head, for just a moment. Cassiel squeezed his eyes shut. He was exhausted. He glanced to Dorian, only then realising how roughly he had pulled away from him. At least he didn’t seem to be upset, sitting up on one arm and watching him patiently. Cassiel swallowed hard, eyes travelling the room again. 

“You should rest, Dorian,” he said quietly, voice quivering. “I think I’m going to be awake for a while.”

Dorian shrugged, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “I’m all right, amatus. I’m rather more concerned about you than I.”

Cassiel let out a long breath. “That’s the problem,” he said, rubbing his eyes irritably. “You’ve been waking up with me for days. You must be exhausted.”

Dorian chuckled. “You think so? Remember, I used to work for Alexius. I was often up late into the night and awake before the sun rose. I know how to make my few sleeping hours count.”

Cassiel knew that wasn’t entirely true. He had seen Dorian during the day, eyes unfocused, yawning when he thought the elf wasn’t looking. Guilt made him wish the mage would go back to his own room so he could get a good night’s rest, but he was grateful he stayed. Cassiel didn’t think he could have gone through this alone. 

He glanced over when Dorian moved, shuffling behind him. “What are you?...” he trailed off as the mage drew the elf into his arms, pulling him to lay flat against his chest. He ran his hands over his chest gently, kissing his neck. 

“Relax,” Dorian whispered. Cassiel hadn’t realised he’d been fidgeting nervously. “You’re safe here with me, amatus.”

Cassiel laid back against him, head resting under the mage’s chin. He trusted Dorian. He closed his eyes, feeling his heart still hammering. Warmth spread over his skin, and he looked with interest at Dorian’s hands, outlined with a soft red hue. 

“You’re still cold, darling,” he said softly. He rubbed over his chest and belly slowly, then along his arms to his shoulders, before repeating the process. Cassiel felt himself relaxing under his touch, ears and eyelids drooping. “How is this?”

“It… It feels really nice.” He could feel Dorian’s heartbeat under his back, a steady rhythm that soothed him. His hands were warm and soft, his breathing over his head familiar and comforting. He felt… safe. Cassiel closed his eyes, letting himself drift away under Dorian’s attentions. 

He wasn’t like anyone Cassiel had ever been with. He wasn’t dalish, for one. But it was more than the cultural and religious differences. He was physically different in so many ways, naturally taller than most elves, broader. His scent was unusual, sharp and exotic. His skin was smooth, clean of scars and burns and calluses. He was different. He was new. 

It took a bit to realise Dorian had stopped running his hands over him, and had simply settled them over his belly. Cassiel stroked them over softly, tilting his head to look at the mage. Dorian kissed the tip of his pointed ear. 

“How are you feeling?”

“... better.” The thought of trying to sleep gave him a small chill, and he felt Dorian’s hold tighten for a moment. He carefully rolled over his arms, pressing to his chest and kissing the man’s cheek. “I… I can’t sleep yet,” he said quietly. Dorian stroked his hands over the elf’s neck. “I don’t want this to end.”

Dorian smiled. “Something I can do for you then, amatus?” he asked teasingly. Cassiel hesitated. Still guilt there, asking him to stay awake for him. But Dorian was so genuine, so loving. And Cassiel did not want to succumb to his nightmares again. He wanted to forget, for just a little longer. He leaned in, nuzzling along Dorian’s jawline, then met his lips with his own. 

For a few moments they simply kissed each other softly, a meeting of their lips again and again. Then Dorian took him in his arms, rolling them over so Cassiel was underneath him, rested against the pillows. Dorian took his face in both hands, eyes studying him closely and carefully, before closing the distance between them. His lips touched gently to the scarring over his eye, and Cassiel took in a sharp breath. It didn’t hurt; the attention shocked him. Dorian paused for a moment before moving lower, kissing the scars on his lips. Cassiel shut his eyes, feeling his heart pound. 

“Do you need me to stop?” Dorian whispered softly. Cassiel shook his head fiercely. Dorian’s head moved to his chest, and he felt a kiss seal to his collarbone, to another scar. Cassiel took a deep breath, crooning as Dorian moved his attentions to every scar over his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Soft touches, gentle affections to old pains. Cassiel had spent so much time ignoring them, pretending they didn’t exist. It was almost more than he could bear to have Dorian see them, know what they were, where they had come from. And he needed it so desperately. 

“I spent so many years screaming on the inside,” Cassiel whispered, almost not realising he was speaking. He leaned his head back as Dorian kissed over his neck. “I need you, Dorian.”

“You have me,” he murmured into the elf’s throat. He pulled the smaller man to him, arms wrapped around his back, pressing their chests together. Cassiel clutched at his shoulders tightly, breathing heavily as Dorian kissed along his jaw, finally meeting his lips again. For a moment, a hint of a memory tried to invade his mind again, and Cassiel shoved it aside, losing himself to Dorian’s touch. To forget. For however long he could. 

Cassiel touched his cheek, a small pressure telling him to stop. They parted their lips, panting slightly, Dorian watching him with affection and curiosity. “I don’t want sex, but I want you to take your pants off,” the elf said with a quiet humour, smirking slightly. Dorian grinned. 

“Such a bold request, inquisitor.” He sat up, unlacing his pants. Cassiel simply watched, openly observing his body. “Shall I remove yours as well?” he asked as he slid them off. Cassiel nodded, letting the mage take his clothing off himself. 

Dorian laid back over him, Cassiel letting out a soft moan when he felt the mage’s cock press against his. Dorian kissed over his neck, hitching the elf’s hips against him. Cassiel wrapped his legs around him, purring with the simple soft pleasure of closeness and intimacy. 

He took Dorian’s face in his hands and met him with an open mouthed kiss, wanting to be ever closer, to share as much of each other as they could. Dorian’s hands hugged him close as they kissed, gently rolling their hips together. Cassiel ran a hand through his hair, the other idly stroking down his back. 

He turned his head away after several minutes, breathless. Dorian kissed his cheek, still holding him close. “Do you need to stop, amatus?”

Cassiel shook his head. “No, definitely not,” he said, catching his breath. “I’m... “ He paused, trying to find his words, clutching Dorian tightly to keep him from pulling away. He stroked over the mage’s face, settling them on his cheeks. “You told me everything about you, and I was so used to staying quiet I didn’t realise I was,” he said quietly. “Not until what happened in the fade. I’m… ashamed.”

“Don’t be,” Dorian whispered. Cassiel leaned his forehead against his. 

“Losing Breele, losing someone I cared about so deeply and closely… don’t let me lose you, vhenan.”

Dorian leaned his face in his neck, kissing him and clutching him tightly. “You won’t, amatus,” he said, voice so soft he barely heard him. Cassiel touched his teeth to his ear, crooning. 

Dorian shifted his body away just bare inches to reach between their legs, taking both their cocks in his hand. Cassiel moaned as he pumped them tightly, rocking his hips into the mage’s grip. He felt like more than just words had been shared, more than physical touch. Dorian sealed his lips to his collarbone, Cassiel gasping as he left a bruise on the skin. His nails dug into the mage’s shoulders. 

Cassiel came first, bursting hard enough to spray over his chest. He moaned loudly, whispering Dorian’s name, still thrusting into his hand. The mage finished right after, pumping them hard still, covering the elf’s belly. Cassiel laid back, breathless, Dorian hunched over him catching his breath as well. 

“You’re beautiful, amatus,” he said softly, laying down beside him. Cassiel chuckled. 

“I never thought you’d say that about a man that wasn’t you.”

Dorian laughed. “I suppose you bring out the best in me.” He watched Cassiel sit up, searching through his night stand for a rag or spare shirt. “I mean it, darling,” he said after a moment. “Not just beautiful. You’re strong. You’re brave.”

Cassiel stopped in the midst of wiping down his chest. He looked to Dorian, his eyes focused on him. So genuine. So caring. Cassiel tossed the shirt he had found, pulling himself into Dorian’s arms. 

“Maybe we’re both better than we gave ourselves credit for,” Cassiel said softly, nuzzling the mage’s neck, inhaling his scent deeply. “I love you, vhenan. Thank you… Thank you for everything.”

Dorian ran a gentle hand down his neck, smiling, but they said nothing more. Cassiel rested his head on the mage’s chest, feeling his warmth, hearing his heartbeat. Soothing. Familiar. Safe… His hands clenched for a moment in memory, but his partner’s soft breathing relaxed him. Not alone. Not anymore.


End file.
